Pissed off that Storm had landed a perfect nut-shot into his ale, Shinsou shot a quiet middle finger to his friend as he listened to the shaman's philosophies and ponderings. They had met before, he and the wise man, and the Telgradian knew well that words were weapons in the possession of the holy one. However, that Gum had suggested that only one of the Brotherhood's leaders demanded respect, and that somehow the two could be divided, did not settle well with the spellsword.

"Listen, shaman," Shinsou started, somewhat slurring his words as he twirled a pistachio nut between his fingers and flicked it into Storm Veritas's face, "Don't you worry about me and sparky over there. We're too long in the teeth for the whole 'divide and conquer' routine, OK? Why don't you worry about conjuring yourself a decent snack, and then some decent clothes, a'ight? Let the grown ups talk for a bit."

Shinsou scrambled to finish his ale. He was cognizant of the electromancer, who looked like he was ready to throw another one of his sub-standard nut varieties at him. A cold air sank across the bar as the pious and relatively well balanced Gum do Mugu considered his retort.

"Actually, I've got a better idea. Let's fight for it." Scanning their faces, Shinsou eyed for weaknesses; a final admission of the inferiority of their chosen bar snack. It was wholly ridiculous for there to even be a suggestion of the three gathered superpowers abusing the largest, most sacred battleground on Althanas for something so trivial, but the Telgradian figured that any place where death was as curable as a papercut was a ridiculous place anyway.

“Whoever wins has the best nuts.” He kept his gaze fixed on the half naked Shaman's tackle.

It was absurd. It was nuts. It was the product of nothing more than ego and boredom. If ever the Citadel needed a policy against having a bar, then Storm, Gum and Shinsou had provided the very case study for it.